


Prisoner

by ByTheDawn



Series: 300challenge [15]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the #300Challenge, based off of the title prompt. Zelena wonders if the stories she has heard about her sister and her mother are actually true...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the pairing, tags, and rating!

Regina resisted the urge to smack her lips and get some moisture back onto them. She had been here—in the Wicked Witch’s storm cellar—for more hours than she had cared to count. Without contact with the outside world, it was impossible to tell night from day, but night must have fallen long ago. The last thing Regina remembered before waking up cuffed to the ceiling by long chains and adorned by a very familiar bracelet was a frantic ride courtesy of a Winged Monkey and a desperate tumble into the opened hatch that had ended in searing pain and unconsciousness. 

Whatever injuries she had sustained had been healed by the time she awoke, but by now, her shoulders were burning from the strain of holding up the rest of her body. The Wicked Witch—because that was obviously who had managed to capture her—had left her to dangle for such an amount of time she wondered why she hadn’t been rescued yet. She would have loved to do it herself, but her magic was blocked by the bracelet that had somehow found its way around her wrist and the chains were strong. For all intents and purposes, Regina was helpless, and it was not a state she relished being in. 

In the time between first waking and nodding off occasionally, Regina had inspected every inch of the cellar that she could spot from her rather limiting vantage point. The most prominent feature of the space was obviously the huge rusty cage that Regina realized she could have ended up in as well. Why she had been strung up instead was beyond her, but despite the pain, she preferred this to being locked behind bars. 

The sound of a rusty deadbolt being shoved to the side had Regina lift her head tiredly, swallowing as she channelled her anger and disdain into her most murderous expression. Despite herself, she faltered in her resolve as her captor stepped down the rickety staircase carefully: Zelena, midwife to Mary Margaret, town sweetheart and trustee. Surprisingly, her first thought was of the baby growing in her former step-daughter’s belly, and instead of worry for herself, her worry was directed entirely to the innocent life still growing and developing. 

“You.” She growled, her anger renewed at the mere thought of Zelena harming the baby in any way. Zelena smirked and curtsied in her perfectly pressed pencil skirt. 

“Me.” She confirmed with flair. “The Wicked Witch of the West.”

Her voice was laced with hateful amusement, and Regina wondered if she hated her title as much as she hated her own title of ‘Evil Queen’.

“I hope you like your new accessory. A certain birdy told me that you and it are well-acquainted. It seemed like an effective option to bind your powers for a short while—crude but effective.” Zelena continued. 

“It’s darling.” Regina replied sarcastically, putting as much venom into her voice as humanly possible. While the Evil Queen’s days were long over, it was a routine she could fall into well enough when under duress—and since she had rather recent experience with torture—at least memory-wise—it was very easy to summon her anger now.

“Oh now, none of that. We are here to have a little _chat_ , just you and I; a chat we didn’t get to have in the Enchanted Forest.” Zelena explained, stepped closer on her pointy shoes with the modest heels that Regina had always found highly out of style. Well, now she knew why. 

“Pray do tell, what could we possibly have to talk about, witch?” Regina countered, and Zelena laughed.

“A lot, Queen, a lot. Also, insulting me on my ability to use magic? Tsk tsk,” The blonde woman wagged her finger condescendingly in Regina’s general direction before circling her. Regina resisted the urge to turn her head in the woman’s direction. “We both know that that’s the pot calling the cattle black. Didn’t mother raise you better than that?”

“My mother taught me many things, but very little of it was useful or constructive in any way.” Regina answered honestly, flashing back to years of abuse and humiliation.

“That is not what I heard…” Zelena answered her in a sing-song voice that made Regina want to scratch her eyes out.

“Then what _did_ you hear?” Regina bit back, already so over this entire encounter. She really did not have time for a discussion about her mother—of all people—who was dead and buried and still managed to seep into her life far more often than she had ever expected to be possible. In her frustration, she missed the two quick steps that brought the Wicked Witch well into her personal space, but the quick dip of a head crowned with golden curls was impossible to ignore, especially when firm lips connected with her own in a surprisingly tender kiss that froze Regina in place. She didn’t have much room to manoeuvre to, but she would have liked to say that she had at least tried should anyone ever find out about any of this—something they would not, Regina vowed, as she involuntarily shuddered as two strong hands connected with her hips and slid up to her lower back, scratching nails lightly over the skin they found there.

When Zelena pulled back, Regina was surprised to find her own eyes closed. She blinked them open rapidly and found dark orbs observing her in a mixture of emotions Regina couldn’t untangle. She was intimately aware of fingers tracing her skin and leaving goose bumps in their wake, of the tingling of her lips, and the shock on her face that would not leave despite her best attempts to clear it. 

“Why…?” She asked, finding herself breathless in a way she could not explain. All of this—her helplessness, the _wrongness_ of being so intimate with someone hell-bent on hurting her—brought back memories. She blamed the fact that her thoughts had been on Cora for her willingness to allow the Wicked Witch’s touch. Somehow, after years and years of fighting for her agency, it only took two shackles and a kiss to undo it. 

“I spoke to the servants, Regina, and they told me such stories. They spoke of the Queen who resisted the touch of the King, but who allowed her mother into her bed night after night. They told me of cries of pain and pleasure that embarrassed everyone who heard them with their intensity. They told me that the Queen was never quite the same after she cast her mother through the mirror, and that the only sounds coming from the bedroom then, were the sounds of crying. Tell me, why did you cast her through that mirror? Why did you push her from your life?” Zelena husked, still so close that her breath ghosted over Regina’s lips. As she spoke, the blonde circled the former Queen, letting her hands revolve around strong sides and a taunt stomach. The words, coupled with the woman’s spellbinding touch, were electrifying in a way Regina had not experienced since the encounters so accurately described by her enemy.

“Because what happened was wrong. It should never have happened—I didn’t want it.” Regina clarified, and she swore she would stick to that story, no matter what. A long nail scratched the length of her belly until it encountered the waistband of her slacks, and Regina hated herself for shuddering, wincing as the pain in her wrists and shoulders intensified. 

“You’re lying.” Zelena stated, her voice still in its lower ranges, but more neutral. Regina felt the press of the witch’s tall body against her back as she brought her lips closer to Regina’s ear. Fingers that slid up under her simple blouse drove her to distraction as she tried to focus on anything but her body’s treacherous reaction to this delicious danger. “You can lie to me now… but by the time we are done, you won’t have a secret left to spill. I promise you that. I also promise to spill some secrets of my own—if you’re good. But then, you haven’t been good for long years now, have you?” 

Regina felt her anger flare at that, drowning out some of her submissiveness. She yanked her body away as best she could, opening her mouth for a venomous reply, but two hands that had refused to relinquish their hold cupped her breasts and found nipples already standing at attention. The sudden contact—even hindered by the material of a lace bra—drained her of her anger and strength in one go, leaving her dangling on shoulders already too sore for this type of strain. 

“Answer me, Regina. Answer me.” Zelena husked, bringing their bodies together again before licking the shell of Regina’s ear and leaving her shuddering. She didn’t want to submit to this—at least not without a proper fight—but robbed of her freedom, her power, and her agency, it felt impossible not to fall back on behaviour so well-instilled in her in her youth. It had been so long since anyone had touched her for more than a handshake or fleeting hug—let alone sexually—and it had been infinitely longer since she had truly _surrendered_ to anyone. Long fingers took their time pushing up the cups of her bra and when warm palms slipped in place over sensitive flesh, Regina didn’t hold back her moan. She didn’t even mind the soft chuckle that danced against her ear as the sound left her lips.

“No, I haven’t been.” She groaned, and was rewarded with a firm squeeze of both of her breasts, causing her to arch back into the solid body wrapped around her. Nails dug painfully into the flesh of her nipples as Zelena pinched and pulled, and Regina found her legs give out once more as a scream that sounded frighteningly like a moan was torn from her lips.

“You are very lucky, Regina, to have known mother so well… I never knew mine. She sent me away and left me to fend for myself in the hell hole they call Oz. Here, I get to enjoy my perfectly pink complexion but over there, I was as green as that bastard Baum described me in his books. I know why she gave me up, but why did you give _her_ up, Regina? Tell me the truth.” Zelena coaxed, and if her mind had not been so clouded by a delicious mixture of fear and pleasure, Regina would have caught the hints the Wicked Witch was dropping. She would have detected the jealousy that dripped from the words spoken with deceptive airiness as the assault on her hypersensitive flesh continued. 

“It was… wrong…” She repeated, holding on to at least that much of her dignity even while whimpering at the sudden loss of contact as Zelena withdrew herself and rounded her body so she could take a vice-like hold of Regina’s jaw, pulling her head up so they could lock eyes. 

“You lie.” Zelena repeated, and this time, she seemed done with Regina’s behaviour. A quick flick of a wrist that was so similar to Cora’s gestures, and Regina found herself shivering in the crisp air of the bunker, fully exposed to the elements as every stitch of clothing disappeared from her body in a green huff of smoke. Regina did not have time for embarrassment, because the seething woman’s lips were on hers again, and this time a strong tongue forced itself between hers. It took only a few seconds for Regina to lift the barrier of her teeth and allow the witch entrance. Being punished by pleasure was so familiar to Regina that she didn’t even question it. It was a game of skating the line between all-out refusal to play along and tempting the other woman into bolder statements and more forceful actions. She _should_ have been focussing on the first, but as soon as sharp nails sunk into the skin of her back in the punishment she had been anticipating, Regina realized she was too far down the rabbit hole to even attempt it. Instead, she bit down on a forceful tongue and was rewarded with a hiss and a firm strike on the expanse of her ass that stung well after the hand had been lifted again.

“I can see why mother enjoyed fucking you, Regina.” Zelena hissed against her lips, and despite her best intentions—despite her better judgement—Regina didn’t even bother opening her eyes before pressing forward as much as she could while confined. She connecting their lips once more in a kiss that soon escalated as Zelena cupped the back of her head and pressed her fully clothed body flush against her in a solid press that skyrocketed Regina’s arousal as she sucked Zelena’s tongue into her mouth. The small shudder that tore through her captor was a victory onto itself and spurred Regina on to press her straining body harder against the Wicked Witch as all caution was thrown to the wind. 

Regina didn’t want to think about what she was doing, how she was hanging from the ceiling of a storm cellar, throwing herself at the woman who should be her enemy—a woman who reminded her so much of her mother—how she was regressing so easily into the woman she had vowed never to become again. All she wanted was to feel—to be desired, to be hurt, to be taken. The quiet need that had simmered inside of her for so long—ever since her actions had taken away the one source of its fulfilment—was roaring to life in light of recent events, and she didn’t want to question it. She would hate herself for this if she made it out alive, but it was a price she was willing to pay.

When Zelena pulled back with an amused smirk—one Regina only saw moments later when she finally managed to open her eyes—Regina knew she should feel shame at her blatant desire; her nipples were painfully stiff, wetness pooled between her legs, and most of all, her breathing was erratic and laboured. She didn’t feel any, however, because she had resolved to stop thinking entirely, and all she was feeling when unencumbered by her thoughts was aroused and oh so _good_.

“I thought it would be harder to break you.” Zelena confessed, but there wasn’t anything negative in her voice, just a curious sort of bemusement that Regina chose to ignore. Instead, she focussed on the feather light touch of Zelena’s fingers that returned to her abdomen and top of her hips as her captor circled her again. As nails scraped the swell of her ass, Regina squirmed and a chuckle filled the air before the flat of a hand once more connected with her skin. Regina groaned and wavered, trying to keep herself on the tips of her toes to alleviate some of the tension in her shoulders and back.

“…yet here you are, begging for my touch, shivering whenever I hurt you. Was this how you were with _her_? Did you beg her for it? Did you let her touch you in any way that she wanted, like you allow me now?” Zelena continued, and in hindsight, Regina would be embarrassed to admit that the words spurred her arousal on even further—because it was true. As much as she looked back on the times spent with her mother—writhing under her forceful body, submitting to her every whim—with loathing and disdain, she had secretly relished every moment of it. Every caress, every injury, every orgasm wretched from her wanton body… she had repressed most of it, but as another slap to her posterior shook her body, she was reminded of every slap her mother had ever placed on her, and when nails dug into her skin now, she thought only of Cora. Her mother had loved her in a twisted and dark way, but she _had_ loved her.

“Yes!” She hissed in reply, and her reward was immediate as the warm body against her back returned, coarse fabric rubbing against the sensitive flesh of her ass, and hands once more found her breasts. Zelena squeezed without mercy, tormenting her nipples as she bit down lightly on Regina’s neck, obviously relishing the moans and shudders that fell from the brunette in her arms. 

“I would love to play with you longer than these few minutes, Regina, but it seems your little helpers are on their way here. So you have a choice to make, my pet—” At that, Regina shivered, having heard the same term of ‘endearment’ fall off of her mother’s lips over and over again in the past. She instinctively flexed back against the woman still tormenting her chest and subconsciously parted her legs as much as her constraints would allow, begging for more than she was being given.

“You need to choose if I stop now… dress you again and just leave you here to be found…” A pregnant pause as a single hand slipped down over taunt muscles and caressed Regina’s lower belly lightly. “…or if I fuck you first.”

The moan that slipped from Regina’s throat at the last words earned her another chuckle and a painful pinch to her nipple with nails that really were too long for the task. She forced her hips forward, hoping for relieve from the painful throbbing that had taken up in her core, but Zelena demanded a vocal response. Regina didn’t disappoint.

“Please.” She whispered.

“Please, what?” Zelena hissed against her ear, and Regina took a deep breath that she expelled completely around the next words.

“Please fuck me.” She breathed, a sob to her voice that was too desperate even to her own ears. Zelena forgave her her weakness and the hand that had halted on her lower belly dipped lower, between soaked lips, and found her throbbing clit effortlessly. Regina howled with pleasure, proving Zelena’s story about her couplings with her mother true once more. She didn’t care—all she cared about was to get more of this. She didn’t know _why_ she was receiving it, but like with her mother, it never occurred to her to ask.

Zelena didn’t disappoint. Within minutes, Regina was reduced to a trembling mess, hanging uselessly on the chains that held her up. She didn’t care about the pain—letting it fuel her pleasure—all she cared about were quick circles on her clit, rough pinches and pulls on her nipples and sharp teeth that bit and bruised the skin of her neck and shoulders.

“I promised you a secret.” Zelena’s voice husked against her ear, cutting through Regina’s haze—but just barely. “Did you know magic is hereditary?” 

Regina licked her parched lips, trying to understand the relevance of the statement made by her captor, but nodded, regardless. She _did_ know, after all, and if cooperation meant she would continue to get rewarded, she would cooperate with anything.

“There aren’t many powerful bloodlines left, Regina, but you and I? We come from the most powerful one of all.” Zelena continued, her voice neutral but dark. Regina’s instincts tried to issue a warning, then, to engage her higher brain functions, but it was hard when all she wanted was for that hand to dip lower so she could slide herself onto long, strong, fingers and come.

“I’ve been longing to meet you for years, as soon as I heard she had you after me.” The witch added, continuing her maddening torture of her body. Realization dawned on the brunette then, and eyes snapped open. Before she could respond, Zelena continued, her voice becoming sharp and twisted.

“I’ve always wanted a sister.” She hissed, and in a fluid motion forced two fingers deeply inside of Regina’s cunt, scraping too long nails against pulsing walls as she buried them inside of Regina’s body to the knuckles, setting a furious pace that Regina—despite the panic that overtook her mind—surrendered to. If she could have resisted, she doubted she would have—as much as that thought nauseated her.

It didn’t take her long to come; a few thrusts into her already pleasure-soaked body and she was straining against her bindings, against the woman behind her, and the fingers pressing deeply inside of her with a skill she couldn’t help but admire. It was so easy to surrender, to be defiled by yet another member of her family. ‘Family’ didn’t mean anything to her anymore. All that remained was the twisted desire to receive whatever pleasure the blonde had in store for her. She knew she deserved more, but this was what she _needed_. 

She came hard and fast, with a loud cry that echoed off of the walls, spasming against the body that held her and her straining against her bindings. She rode wave upon wave of pleasure that no one but her mother had been able to provoke in her and then sagged completely, not even feeling the pain as her wrists and shoulders took all of her weight. Sweat dripped down her body, and on her legs, it mingled with the fruits of her orgasm, set free now long digits slipped from her effortlessly. Lightness overtook her for long moments, a quiet calm brought on by the fulfilment of desires held in check for decades—desires of abuse that she had, indeed, relished and had been as addicted to as the magic that would eventually darken her heart forever. 

“You are quite something, sister.” Zelena marvelled darkly, stepping away from the younger brunette and encircling her once more so she could look at the face Regina tried desperately to hide from her. With her needs sated, the reality of what had just transpired crept back in, and it wasn’t pretty. Lightness turned to acid in her gut, and the stains on her thighs suddenly became shameful instead of cathartic. 

“Look at me.” Zelena commanded effortlessly, and Regina did, despite her better intentions. Her breath caught in her throat as fingers coated in Regina’s juices disappeared between lips she remembered all too well. 

“Mmmm… now I definitely understand why mother enjoyed you so…” Zelena approved once she had sucked them clean, letting them leave her mouth with a loud pop. Regina was mortified at the arousal that shot up in her at the words and sight of her sister— _her sister_ —tasting her come, and swallowed heavily. It was like being a teenager again, at the mercy of the feelings her mother had provoked in her—her only pleasure in a bleak and painful existence. Not much had changed now, she realized, and she wondered if—had she been happy—she still would have allowed this exchange to transpire. Darkened eyes ran the length of her body one more time before her clothes were magicked back onto her body with practiced ease. She felt worse in them than she had felt without them, Regina realized, but couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps her clothes reminded her too much of reality—a reality she was still desperately trying to keep at bay.

“We will see each other again, Regina. I would love to hear more about mother one day. Your rescue party should be here soon, so I will leave you to gather your strength and get your story straight. I’m sure you would not like them finding out about this, hm? I thought so. Well, I’ll keep quiet if you will, sis. After all, family sticks together.” Zelena pressed with a chuckle, her face completely angelic while Regina now knew the nature of the beast that lay beyond it. She nodded, tiredly, and Zelena beamed.

“Excellent! Well then, I shall take my leave. You know where to find me… if you need me.” Zelena promised, and Regina felt her throat go dry at the ramifications of the seductively spoken words. _If you need me_ ; Zelena saw right through her, Regina realized. She had seen the darkness under the surface, the need to submit and be loved. The need for family—as twisted as hers was. 

Despite vowing to herself she would never seek Zelena out for _this_ , she knew it was a vow she would break many times over before everything was said and done. She could already feel the need building inside of her. As her sister faded in a cloud of green smoke, Regina lost the fight to her tears as she realized the depths of her own moral depravity. This desire in her could only be sated by someone who _truly_ understood the darkness—and of all that had once understood it, only one was still alive and moderately sane today: her sister, the Wicked Witch of the West, who had just fucked her after being begged to do so. 

Perhaps they were burdened by more than magic in their blood, the women of her family. Perhaps this was simply part of their nature, because as much as Regina hated acknowledging this need in herself, she hadn’t been the only one to feel it—Zelena wanted Regina to seek her out just as much as Regina wanted to. The tears that fell onto mouldy straw were no longer for herself alone; she cried, too, for another life messed up to all hell, for another burdened with the darkness that hung over her family like a curse. She wondered how long she would be able to hold out before her trembling hands could no longer resist the urge to run over smooth skin, before her tongue could no longer deny the need to run through wet folds, and her aching sex gave up fighting the need to be filled over and over until it _hurt_. She would burn for this, she knew, but it would be worth it in the moments… it always had been, before.


End file.
